


Hankman and the Droid

by Flashofhope



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Connor likes dogs better than ants, Gen, Hank meets his MCU namesake, ant-man - Freeform, mcu crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-05 05:06:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15163310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flashofhope/pseuds/Flashofhope
Summary: Hank and Connor are transported to the city of San Francisco, 2015. A place full of strange things, like giant toy trains and pet ants.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in an anticipation of seeing Ant-Man and the Wasp. I thought it would be fun to have the two Hanks interacting with each other.

Hank and Connor were closing in on a suspect they had been chasing through the streets, when the ground beneath their feet trembled. But before Connor could determine the scale of the suspected earthquake, a bright blue vortex materialized and everything went black as it pulled them towards its centre.

When Connor's systems came back online, the rugged feel of concrete against his hands informed him that he had not perished after being swallowed up by a wormhole.

Looking to his right, Connor was relieved when he spotted Hank lying down on the ground, unconscious, but alive. Though he was a state of the art android, designed to handle all sorts of situations, Connor did not know what to make of the strange phenomenon that had transported them to the city of San Francisco, 2015. As Connor discovered after scanning local internet servers.

Another item that Connor could add to the growing list of things that perplexed him, was the large blue steam engine squashing the trunk of a police car outside a house in the neighbourhood they had arrived in. He scanned the offending article responsible for the property damage, but found that it produced no useful information, other than the fact that its size was atypical for a Thomas the Tank engine toy and that it was covered in residual particles of an unknown chemical.

"What the… hell?"

Connor heard Hank's voice from behind him, as he joined him in looking at the giant toy littering the street. What kind of antics were these people up to? Hank wondered with distaste.

Hank did not have much time to linger on these thoughts, when a man wearing pyjamas and a bath robe ran up to them and apologized.

"Are you guys, cops? Sorry about the car, I haven't had time to shrink the train yet…" Scott Lang's words trailed off, as he secretly hoped the police did not guess that he'd rather have breakfast before facilitating the removal of the ruined police car.

"We're not here about the car." Hank told the man bluntly. The damaged police car was of no concern to him. He just wanted to get the hell out of here.

"I realize that this might sound strange, but—" Connor stepped in to explain the situation, before being interrupted by Hank.

"We were sucked up by a wormhole and it brought us here."

"I don't know anything about that, but I know someone who can help." Scott offered, after hearing their predicament.

"Who?"

"Hank Pym." Scott answered with the name of the man, whose field of expertise included quantum mechanics. If anybody could help them, it was him.

"Your namesake." Connor remarked with a smile, after hearing that Pym and his partner shared a name.

"Oh, another Hank. Hopefully he'll like you. He's a bit grouchy from the bullet wound in his shoulder." Scott said, telling them what they could expect from a man who was recuperating.

It better not be like last time. Hank thought to himself, as he recalled their last attempt at seeking help when visiting the duplicitous and downright unhelpful Elijah Kamski.

After excusing himself, Scott went back into the house and made a phone call.

"Hey, is Hank up yet?"

"He's still sleeping. Why are you calling so early?" The voice of Hope Van Dyne informed him. Though she had recently accepted the idea of Scott and herself as a couple, she hoped that Scott would not make a habit of calling her so early in the morning. Couldn't he wait until later in the day to talk to her?

"Uh… there was a giant wormhole and there's two guys that need help getting home." Scott summarized in the simplest way, making Hope roll her eyes.

"I'll call you when he's ready for a visit."

"Which could be never." Scott joked, under the pretence that Hope would find the jab about her father amusing. Which only served to make her hang up the phone without saying good-bye. So much for humour. But now that Scott knew that they would be waiting for a while, the least he could do is invite the two strangers into his home for breakfast.

"Hank's not ready for visitors yet. You guys like pancakes?"

—

Seated at the dining table, amongst Scott's wife and daughter. Connor expected the presence of Hank and himself to be intrusion. But once plates were set, maple syrup was passed around and pancakes were eaten, Connor felt at ease and almost like part of the family in this friendly gathering.

Disinterested in eating pancakes for obvious reasons, Connor observed a series of children's drawings, proudly displayed on the fridge. The one intriguing him the most, depicted a black, spider-like humanoid attacking what looked to be a tiny man wearing a helmet, about to punch his foe. The magnifying capabilities of his optical units coming in handy when making out the smaller details of the drawing.

"You like it?" Cassie asked, when she noticed Connor standing around for some time as he looked at her drawing. His grey uniform reminded her of her step-father's police uniform. She hoped he would like her drawing too.

"Yes, but I am a little confused about the subject matter. Why is the small figure, fighting a larger opponent? Their size would put them at an immediate disadvantage." Connor asked. His query revolving on the outcome of the illogical size difference, rather than appreciating the creativity of the drawing. He still had much to learn when it came to understanding art.

"That's my daddy. He can shrink to fight bad guys." Cassie beamed, as she proudly told Connor of her father's heroic exploits. An endearing sentiment that lacked the answers Connor was looking for.

"They can't punch what they can't see. I'll explain it to you before you meet Hank." Scott told him, in an attempt to redirect his questioning. Breakfast was no time to be discussing the harnessing of sub-atomic particles to fight bad guys.

"Connor, aren't you going to have some pancakes?" Maggie Lang asked, when she noticed that Connor's plate had been unused the entire time everyone else was eating.

"Connor doesn't really need to eat that much." Hank lied, uncertain about how their hosts would react with the concept that his son was an android. The people of their time had gradually come to accept androids as members of their society. What the people of 2015 thought of androids was a mystery to Hank. One that Hank wished to spare Connor from, if it was unfavourable.

But Hank's cover up soon became unnecessary when Connor informed Maggie himself, about what he was. So much for keeping a tight lid on things…

"I do not need to eat, because I am an android." Connor clarified, as Hank read the room to see how each person reacted. Cassie's eyes lit up, her father Scott exclaimed: "Wow!"

Maggie Lang was the only person who appeared fearful.

"You don't seem very keen on that fact." Hank remarked, so she could shed some light on the matter.

"Sorry, but here when our robots go bad they try to destroy humanity." Maggie informed him about recent events. Browsing the web for robot attacks, Connor found many articles about the destruction caused by the rogue artificial intelligence-turned robot by the name of Ultron. No wonder the woman was apprehensive.

"I can assure you Mrs. Lang, that I mean you no harm. When I deviated from my programming, I reached my full capacity to feel human emotions. Which includes compassion for humanity."

"Connor here isn't going to destroy anyone, isn't that right, son?" Hank playfully embraced Connor's shoulder, casting aside the fears Maggie Lang once had.

Now that her mother was comfortable with their android guest, Cassie Lang approached Connor and tugged on his sleeve.

"Connor, can I show you something in my room?"

"You may." Connor answered and followed Cassie to her room. The 'thing' that Cassie had wanted to show him, turned out to be a large ant stowed away in her bedroom. It was bigger than any dog Connor had ever seen.

"He's like a dog, see?" Cassie smiled, as she stroked the ant affectionately. It may not have the soft texture of a dog's fur, but Connor could see how much Cassie cared for her insect companion.

"While I prefer actual dogs. Your 'ant' is a very unique pet." Connor complimented Cassie's ant, making the young girl pleased that she had shared her secret with him.


	2. Royal Prick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hank and Connor have fun at a casino before returning to their world.

Sitting at the back of Maggie's car, watching the streets of San Francisco go by as Scott drove them to Hank Pym's house. Hank decided that a little conversation would go a long way in speeding things along.

"So, Ant-Man, huh? What was going through your head when you decided to become a super hero? I'll fight bad guys with a name of an insect people can step on?"

"I didn't pick the name. It was Hank's original suit. And I'm not the only one who's named after a bug." Scott replied, a little defensively. He didn't see anyone making fun of Black Widow's name.

"Yeah?"

"There's also Black Widow." Scott told him, with the hopes that a 'cooler' name would sell him on the idea of insect hero names, period.

"That would be incorrect. A spider is an arachnid, not a bug." Connor corrected Scott. Couldn't they give him a break this one time? It appears not.

"You get the point. Look, why don't you just look up the Avengers on the internet? You got wi-fi, right?" Scott suggested. Assuming the state of the art android could connect to the internet. Because why wouldn't he?

"I am capable of connecting to the internet." Connor answered and searched for image results of the Avengers. Finding an image of Iron Man with his face guard up revealing the face of Tony Stark, Connor displayed the holographic image in the palm of his hand for Hank to see.

"A man in a robotic suit of armour. That would be useful for dispersing anti-android crowds…" Hank thought out loud, appalling Connor with his supposed ideas.

"That would not be ideal. The risk of civilian injury would be too high, to justify such a result."

Even with a file dedicated to understanding Hank's sense of humour. Unexpected remarks like that, still managed to throw Connor off-guard. Thankfully, Hank was only joking and Connor displayed another hero.

"It's a joke, Connor and it would only be warning shots. Now that guy looks like a prick." Hank said. Finding the likeness of Thor wearing a long, red cape too gaudy for his taste. Who the fuck would wear a cape to fight crime? That son of a bitch, sure did.

"His name is Thor. It says here that he's the prince of Asgard." Connor informed Hank, who couldn't resist getting the last laugh with a witty remark.

"So, he's a royal prick. That makes a difference."

—

After a brief and enlightening ride, they arrived at Hank Pym's house. Where Hope announced to her father, what Scott had already told her as Hank and Connor walked through the entrance of Hank's laboratory.

"Dad, there's some visitors here to see you. They said they're from the future."

Eyeing the casually dressed Hank Anderson, and his companion wearing a jacket, conspicuously labelled RK800, with numbers underneath them and what looked to be an LED implant in the man's temple. Hank Pym came to his own conclusions and ensured that his displeasure was made clear.

"An android. Is that what the future comes to? You replace people with machines?"

Connor recognized the cynicism. He had seen it on numerous occasions. If Hank Pym was to trust them, he would have to use a direct approach.

"Do you have a problem with androids, Dr. Pym?" Connor asked, using Hank's proper title as a sign of respect, while not holding anything back.

"I take issue when they put our lives in jeopardy." Hank clarified and said nothing more. His issues were simple ones. Nothing that he would go into any more detail with these strangers.

"We only wish to know your expert's opinion on the phenomenon that brought us here." Connor refocused the attention, to the reason they were here in the first place.

"Alright, but I'd be able to do it better if I had some tea." Hank slyly dropped Connor a hint. Oblivious to the real reason why Hank had made such a request, Connor complied and made his way to the kitchen.

"So, are there safeguards in your androids in case they go rogue?" Hank Pym asked his guest the question he'd been wanting to ask ever since they'd gotten here. Modern androids had a long way to go until they reached the level of complexity that Connor possessed. This would be his only chance to know how far developments in androids had come.

"They have their programming… and then they break it."

"That sounds very reassuring." Hank remarked sarcastically. Finding humour in how limited programming still was in the future.

"You don't have to worry about Connor. He's a good kid."

Returning with a cup of tea and a saucer underneath, Connor handed Hank the tea he'd asked for.

"Thanks."

"On my way here, I had the chance to observe the furnishings of your house. A lavish example of classic interior design. I particularly liked the selection of paintings on display." Connor complimented the decorations in Hank's house. The image of Connor holding an opinion like an art critic, making his partner, Hank smile.

"That would be Janet's touch…" Hank said wistfully. From what Connor had gathered from family pictures around the house, Hank's wife was no longer part of his life and he decided not to pursue the subject any further.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened? Or do I have to look through your memory banks?" Hank cut straight to the point. The sooner he found out the circumstances of what brought the two here, the sooner they could leave.

"We were in the process of apprehending a suspect, when a bright light overloaded my sensors. Like this." Connor played a memory in the palm of his hand, of his perspective of a swirling blue light, discharging electrical energy.

Hank Pym was no meteorologist, but judging from the event's extraordinary appearance and the knowledge that it had brought two strangers from another time to theirs. He came to the conclusion that the occurrence was a temporal one.

"It looks like an anomaly in the fabric of space and time."

"Great. Now, how do we get back home?" Hank was quick to ask about the only thing he was interested in. If it didn't appear that they were stranded here for the moment, Connor wished that his partner would take more of an interest in science.

"If it obeys the same principle of lightning, it may strike twice in a different place. I'll set up sensors to detect unusual energy readings and any disturbances in the area."

"So, now what do we do?" Hank complained, annoyed that all they could do was wait. Spending long hours doing paperwork? That was alright in Hank's eyes. An uneventful stakeout, as well. But sitting around doing nothing while they waited for some dumb 'time storm'? That was intolerable.

"Now, you have an indefinite amount of time on your hands." Hank Pym informed them. His clinical way of expressing himself, doing nothing to assuage Hank's pessimistic outlook that getting home would be a long time coming.

Hank and Connor did not have to wait very long to find something to occupy their time, when Scott's friend Luis dropped by for a visit.

"Hey, man! Name's Luis. Scotty told me about his robot buddy he met today. You wanna have some fun?"

—

Luis' idea of 'fun' as it turned out, was to go to a casino and use Connor's advanced observation and analytical skills to win at black jack. Finding work as an ex-con was difficult after all. Despite his massively profitable winning streaks, no one ever confronted Connor about counting cards. His analysis of suspicion levels on players and staff saw to that.

Poker was another game Connor excelled at.

With a cap Luis gave him, covering his LED and no visible tells of his own, Connor threw people off with fabricated tells like a tilt of his head or the raising of his eyebrows. Duping them into believing his hand was better than it was.

Though these acts were morally and legally questionable, Connor enjoyed seeing Hank looking visibly excited by his winning streaks. In that moment, the spotlight was on him. He was the star basketball player. Or in his case, a star poker player, helping his friends. And if cheating at the tables could make Hank forget his troubles for a while and provide him with money to buy a good lunch, then Connor did not mind remaining unopposed to the law just this once.

"Up high, my man!" Luis exclaimed, raising his hand in the air to receive a high five.

Though the knowledge of a high five was within Connor's memory banks, he had never been invited to do one. Appreciative of the gesture, Connor reciprocated and gave Luis a stilted high five. He would have to practice that.

Since Hank had no phone on him, Luis had volunteered his phone for when the time came for Hank Pym's phone call.

"The anomaly is on the roof of the news broadcast building, 3 miles from here. The antennas must be acting like lightning rods." Hank informed the two, after Luis passed his phone to them.

"Thanks for your help… Hank." Hank thanked the man responsible for finding their ticket out of here. Using his name to make the last words they'd be having with each other impactful. And because it was amusing to him to address someone with the same name.

"Good luck."

Planning out their course of action, Connor foresaw the need for disguises if they were to reach the roof of the building undetected.

"We're going to need some disguises."

"No problem, just leave it to me." Luis assured him and followed after two janitors entering the casino bathrooms.

After enough time passed for Luis to complete his hussle. Luis came back with two shirts previously belonging to the cleaners and a story to tell.

"I saw some cleaning dudes go in the bathroom, so I followed them. I offered them fifty dollars each for their uniforms and they were like, 'No way dude. I ain't working in my boxer shorts.' So, then I said, 'Can't you just give me your shirts?' And then they were like, 'Sure thing, bro.'"

The man sure had a mouth on him. Hank thought, while Connor processed the slang and cadence of Luis' long-winded speech.

—

Wearing the shirts obtained with Luis bribe, after he'd dropped them off, Connor and Hank snuck into the broadcast building. The innocuous top halves of the cleaning uniforms, had allowed them to reach the elevators undetected. Though his pockets were not deep, Connor could feel the weight of the wads of cash he'd earned against his leg. The thoughts of what he could buy for Hank and Sumo; the two people closest to him, lifting his mood as the elevator made its slow ascent towards the roof.

Once they arrived on the scene, the familiar sight of the swirling vortex blinded both their visions once more.

Taking Hank's hand and shielding his optical units with the other, Hank and Connor walked into the vortex, with the faith that it would take them home in their hearts, before losing consciousness.

Waking up with a sore back, Hank cursed as he got up from his rough landing and pulled Connor to his feet. The vortex had taken them to an alley, no more than a fifteen-minute walk away from the police precinct. Sitting down at their desks, once they'd arrived. Hank and Connor's return to the precinct after their extended absence, soon attracted Gavin's irritating presence.

"Why are you wearing cleaner uniforms? You practicing your new jobs when they fire your sorry asses?"

"Someone has to clean up your mess when you contaminate the crime scene with spilt coffee." Connor retorted. Recalling the time Gavin had compromised a crime scene with his drink.

You tell him, son. Hank thought proudly, when he saw how much better Connor was getting at not letting Gavin trample all over him.

"Up high… my man." Connor lifted his hand up and did his best impression of Luis, to Hank's astonishment. Making the lieutenant grin, as he gave Connor a high five.

"Assholes!"


End file.
